


Damage Done

by Waysm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waysm/pseuds/Waysm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His failures aren't the kid's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damage Done

John stirs; an unheard noise breaking through his for once dreamless sleep. He pushes away the irritation at being roused and remains motionless, stretching his senses, attempting to identify what woke him before taking action. The rental home is quiet save for the crickets chirping outside - always a good sign, wildlife tends to flee when there's evil about - but it still takes him a moment longer than he'd like to locate the disturbance. Finally he does, there by the door, a presence he'd recognize in the furthest depths of Hell.

"Dean."

His voice comes out gruff and sleep-raspy, part question, part warning. Dean knows better than to hesitant over waking him in the event of an emergency and so the boy's out of bed for no good reason, _woken him_ for no good reason. And that, well that kind of pisses John off. He considers letting the kid know just how much as he cracks an eye open, confirming his suspicion. Dean's stalled in the doorway, shifting his weight back and forth, nervous energy radiating off every inch of him.

That can only mean one thing.

He wants something he shouldn't.

Given the body language John's got a good idea what that something is and it kills the anger instantly, leaving him feeling oddly unbalanced though he's still laying down. It's not quite guilt that blossoms in his chest, but it's pretty damn close and John has to focus to shut the unease down, redirecting his annoyance at himself. His failures aren't the kid's fault.

Though at least Dean has the decency to look mildly embarrassed. As he should be. What he's silently asking for isn't normal for any teenager, let alone a teenager who hunts evil for a living. But then Dean stopped being any degree of _normal_ a long time ago. And no matter how much he wants to, tries to, John knows he can't actually blame that on The Demon. Yellow-eyed son of a bitch may have stolen the boy's mother from him, but he's the one that stole Dean's innocence. And unfortunately, that knowledge causes him do something even more unforgivable, something even more dangerous than turning Dean into a weapon for him to use. It causes him to make allowances. Not often, but the fact remains, bringing with it a price neither can afford to pay.

But for some reason tonight he just can't stomach _not_ granting the kid a harmless comfort and so he scoots over, making room for his eldest to slide in next to him, just barely remembering to reset his clock before rolling onto his stomach, head shoved deep into the well-wore pillows. Dean doesn't get too close, taking up just enough room to get settled and John pretends not to notice when Dean breathes in deeply, drinking in his father's scent off the bed. John stifles a sigh, turning his face away from the sight of Dean relaxed under the blankets, already drifting off. John will need to wake even earlier than normal so he can shove the boy out of bed before dawn comes. After all, can't let Sammy witness his brother's weakness, can't let him see one of the tiny cracks in the rock they call Dean.

 

***

 

He wakes again early morning, weak sunlight slanting across his face and heated pressure draped over his back. It's not unusual. The boy tends to migrate in his sleep, a habit John's been trying to train out of him for years now. What is unusual - or not so much unusual given Dean's age but still unexpected and quite frankly a little disturbing - is the added weight against his thigh. Heavy and undeniable, it burns through the post-slumber haze and he tenses. Half-way to flipping Dean off him and shaking him awake the teen murmurs incoherently and burrows in closer, face pressed between muscled shoulders and John hesitates. That split-second of indecision costs him, Dean's content sigh filling his mind with dozens of perfectly sane and logical reasons for letting the boy be, aroused or not. Annoyed at his current lack of decisiveness he groans inwardly, and leaves Dean where he is.

Slipping into a fitful sleep, the faint rotation of hips doesn't register until the teen begins groaning. John's reaction is both unstoppable and frightening. His skin tightens and breaks out into a sweat as images skitter around his head, damnable imagination filling in the sweetest details - Dean on his knees, eyes wide, cheeks wet; Dean spread over the Impala's hood after a hunt, skin slick, voice desperate; the two of them crammed into a tiny hotel shower, soaked to the bone, soap everywhere - The scenes loop ceaselessly, until finally it's just too damn much and he groans deep, the sound rattling in his chest. Dean shudders above and John's fingers clench down hard on the boy's hip, thoughtlessly pushing the slender pelvis to angle deeper against his ass. Muscles tensing almost painfully, he lets the teen ride him to completion, heavy silence broken only by muted gasps and moans. His own orgasm takes him by such surprise with it's intensity that he's left feeling shattered, too broken to do more than lie beneath his son, heart jack-rabbiting, mind scarily blank as he listens to Dean pant hot breathes right down to his wretched soul.

Dean shifts once again, sliding off John's back and slumping against his side, sticky skin and clothing dragging apart in hitching movements. John frowns at the continued silence, worry and bile rising in his throat along with a threatening pressure at the back of his eyes. He forces a steady breath and rolls to face his son and, undeniably, his greatest sin yet. But instead of finding confusion, fear and horror, John only discovers a snoring teenager in crumpled pajama bottoms and mused hair.

It's then he realizes the boy never woke.

 

***

 

They sleep through the alarm.


End file.
